


Big Ducks on Campus

by GrownUp90s



Series: Adam's Odyssey [4]
Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: '90s Nostalgia, F/M, High School politics, Hockey, Post-Canon, Teen Romance, Yellow Journalism, trials of friendship, young adult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-04-19 06:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14231205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrownUp90s/pseuds/GrownUp90s
Summary: It's junior year for the Ducks, and they no longer find themselves on the social fringe at Eden Hall. But between a gossipy school newspaper, a fiercely competitive hockey division, and team squabbling, Adam will be called upon to lead like never before; and he can ill-afford weakness when Julie receives devastating news from home.





	1. Meet the Press

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, my fellow MD travelers! So I've decided that I loved my Adam's Odyssey trilogy so much that I'd turn it into a tetralogy! I was intrigued by the idea of the Ducks, those eternal underdogs, actually being in a position of superiority, with all the problems that come with being on top. This takes place during their junior year at Eden Hall (1998-1999), and it relies on the world that I have built in _Us Against the World, Summer of '97,_ and _Breaking Up the Flock._
> 
> So be sure to read those stories, if you haven't already; I'll know if you skipped ahead :p
> 
> Anyway, happy reading – and as always, feedback (positive, negative...but hopefully not neutral) is greatly appreciated!
> 
> -Matt

Josh Woodward shifted in the bleachers at Eden Hall Arena. The wiry, immaculately-dressed junior with blond hair was on assignment for the school newspaper, the _Eden Hall Gazette,_ and was due to interview the new captains of the Varsity and JV hockey teams.

 _No wonder the crowd spends so much time on its feet,_ he mused, shifting yet again on the rock-hard bench. With its leather upholstery and thick padding, his announcer's chair was considerably more comfortable. He briefly considered heading upstairs to the booth and conducting his interviews there, but decided against it.

_They'll only stand me up if they don't see me._

Even at the tender age of sixteen, his journalistic instincts were already keen.

He took another look at his notes. It simply would not do to look at his notebook for questions, so he took care to memorize them ahead of time. That was when he sensed a presence. He smelled it before he saw it.

"Ah, Mr. Woodward," Stacy Andersen greeted her sports reporter. "How goes it?"

Josh turned to see his editor-in-chief approach.

Short, brown-eyed, bespectacled, and with a bit of a muffin top, Stacy Andersen was not the tall, trim Nordic beauty that people expected her to be; so she overcompensated with gallons of strong perfume. Now a senior, she had achieved her social standing through the only path that was available to a girl like her: the school newspaper.

As Editor-in-Chief of the _Gazette,_ the reputations of Eden Hall's students were mere playthings to her. As result, there was never any shortage of obsequious boys willing to date her, nor of party invitations from the Beautiful People.

"Stacy," Josh nodded. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Stacy beamed. "I just wanted to pass this along; it's a set of questions for your interview with the hockey captains."

 _I've already got the questions. Mind your own damn business,_ Josh thought.

"Let's have a look-see," he wisely said instead.

He took the outstretched sheet of pink index paper and looked it over.

_Who are you dating? If you're single, what qualities do you look for a in a girl? Coach Bombay has left you guys before, do you really think he's in it for the long haul? Do you really think he's willing to play second-fiddle to Coach Orion?_

These and other questions were needlessly personal and had nothing to do with hockey – though Josh figured that the Bombay questions were at least relevant, if in poor taste.

"Thanks, Stacy," he nodded, sliding the paper into his pocket. "These should really grab our readers' attention."

"That they should," Stacy agreed. "And Josh – take care not to lose your tape. I'm gonna need you to turn it in with your write-up. It would really be a shame if I lost such a great reporter because he kept losing his tapes."

Josh nodded again. His editor did not need to make the threat to his job so explicit, but he took it in stride. Stacy was determined to have her intrusive questions asked, and if Josh failed to ask them, his insubordination would be caught on tape. Though they risked alienating Josh from the captains whose teams he had to cover, he trusted his ability to soften these pointed questions.

"You'll get your tape," he assured Stacy.

"Splendid!"

Upon hearing the heavy door from the locker rooms open, she got to her feet.

"That'll be the guys," she reasoned. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Best foot forward, Josh!"

"Yep, yep, yep."

Stacy departed, leaving a pungent scent in her wake. Tough she had left, her smell remained. It was as though she had within her power the ability to be in multiple places at the same time.

 _Just keep your head down and get through this year with that bovine bitch, Joshy-boy. Then, the_ Gazette _will be all yours._

Four hockey players emerged from the tunnel and looked up into the stands.

"Up here, fellas!" Josh beckoned them to join him.

"Whew, that's some cologne you've got on, Josh!" Charlie Conway waved a hand in front of his nose. "What is that, Victoria's Secret?"

"Heh, witty as always, Charlie," Josh grinned, switching his tape recorder on. "Have a seat, guys. Make yourselves comfortable."

Charlie took a seat on the bench in front of Josh, and the other three surrounded the hockey reporter. In addition to Charlie, captain of the Varsity team, Adam Banks and Fulton Reed served as alternate captains on Varsity. Les Averman, the lone Duck still on JV, was chosen by Gordon Bombay to lead the youthful squad, and had been delegated the responsibility for choosing any alternates.

"First of all, congratulations on being named captains," Josh offered. "So, Charlie, let's start with you. What did you see in Adam and Fulton that led you to appoint them as alternates?"

"Well, making Fulton an alternate was actually Banksie's idea," Charlie revealed. "But I agreed to it right away. Fulton's been the emotional anchor of the Ducks since the beginning. He was even the first one to embrace the name 'Duck' when Bombay presented it to us way back when.

"And as far as Adam goes, he's our best player…well, maybe our _second_ best. There's no denying that his gallant, handsome captain is da bomb."

Josh made a note of Adam's eyeroll. It was exactly the sort of gossipy little detail that his editor would appreciate.

"Talent doesn't always equal leadership, though," Josh pointed out. "You're sure that Adam has it?"

"Yes," Charlie answered flatly.

When he refused to dignify that question with a long answer, his friends all laughed.

"Care to elaborate?" Josh asked.

"No."

More laughter at Josh's expense. Now he was actually tempted to ask some of Stacy's barbs.

"I wanna get Fulton's take on this as well, but Adam, let's start with you," Josh began. "Charlie walked out on his team as a freshman, then he got demoted to the second line during his sophomore year. Do you _really_ trust him to lead you guys going forward?"

"Why, you son of a…" Charlie got to his feet, prompting the others to rise, and for Fulton to restrain him.

"Next question," Adam declared. "And don't be a dick about it, or we walk."

"My apologies, guys," Josh offered, motioning for the players to resume their seats, which they did. "Les, let's talk about JV…"

For the next several minutes, Josh proceeded to lob softball after softball at Les Averman, who batted them away quite easily. No, he wasn't upset about being left on JV; yes, he was proud to be leading the freshman squad; no, he didn't doubt the 'Duckness' of the newbies; etc. Josh then got into the meat of the hockey material, peppering the guys with questions about Eden Hall's archrival the Blake School, and asking Varsity how confident it was that it would return to the playoffs after last year's dismal season.

Boilerplate questions that yielded boilerplate answers.

"Now, please bear with me, fellas – but you'll appreciate that a large portion of your fan base is female…"

"Oh, boy," Fulton winced.

"…so please, indulge them," Josh continued. "Let's talk about your dating situations."

"Happily attached to Linda Tompkins," Charlie declared.

"In a relationship with Julie Gaffney," Adam added.

"Uh, single, actually," Fulton revealed.

"Really?" Josh asked. "And what is Fulton Reed looking for in a woman?"

The lumbering Varsity defenseman shrugged. With his powerful build, black, shoulder-length hair, and intimidatingly quiet demeanor, Fulton Reed gave every impression of a tough, manly man. He, along with Dean Portman, was a formidable Bash Brother, after all.

"I don't really know," he confessed. "I guess I'll just know the right one when I see her."

"That's cool," Josh nodded, before turning to Averman. "Les?"

Averman's own sexuality was an uncomfortable secret that only he, Greg Goldberg, and a handful of last year's Varsity squad knew about. With the graduation of Zach Henderson and his goons, that left only Goldberg. And that secret had, in effect, cost Averman his friendship with his longtime teammate.

Averman was deep enough in the closet to find Christmas presents, and he intended to keep it that way.

"I'm single," he breezily declared. "And any girl who digs a goofy guy with glasses is welcome to gimme a call."

"Great," Josh nodded. "Let's turn to the coaching situation…"

The four captains fielded questions about Gordon Bombay's history and his future, expressing confidence that he would indeed be around for the long haul, and who, along with Ted Orion, would restore the hockey program to its full glory.

"Thanks so much, guys!" Josh smiled genially. "And good luck this season – quack, quack!"

"Heh, quack, indeed. Quack, indeed," Charlie nodded before departing with his co-captains.

Josh shook his head in frustration as he switched off his tape recorder. He had precious few juicy tidbits, and though he had found tactful ways to ask tactless questions, they yielded no bombshells.

But he knew that wouldn't stop his editor from creating them.

* * *

Julie Gaffney let out a loud yawn as she stretched in the front passenger seat of Adam's Range Rover. Adam gave his girlfriend a quick glance from the driver's seat and couldn't help but smile. But then, he had done quite a bit of smiling as of late. A weekend with Julie all to himself at his family's cabin on the lake was hard not to smile about.

"Am I gonna have to carry you to bed when we get there?" He teased.

"Could you _not_ think about getting me in bed, just for _one second?"_ She teased back.

"Only with great difficulty."

"Perv," she smacked his arm with a laugh.

"Hey – easy there," he admonished. "I'm driving. And I'll love you even if you're comatose, but I'd rather not be in a wheelchair when I visit you at the hospital."

She knew that he was only kidding, but she cringed anyway.

"God, you're morbid, Adam."

"Sorry," he offered. "I inherited my dad's sense of humor."

"You mean Philip actually _has_ one?"

"Heh, incredibly, yes," Adam nodded. "It's darker than the bottom of a well, but it's there."

"Well, let's just hope that you didn't inherit his hairline as well."

"Hey!"

"Sorry," Julie smiled sweetly. "You know how much I love your mane. And I'm pretty sure that the baldness gene is carried by mothers, not fathers."

Adam tried to pout, but Julie's smile made that impossible. So he surrendered to the smile that she was making him feel.

"Give me your hand," she ordered him.

Her boyfriend was very much a two-handed driver, but he acquiesced, keeping his left on the steering wheel while offering her his right.

She took his mitt into her silky hands, gave his knuckles a kiss, then brought it to rest on her thigh. He perked right up upon feeling her firm, velvety leg – still bronzed by the summer sun. Instinctively, he wanted a hand to cover the growing evidence of his attraction; but he needed one to steer, and the other was sandwiched between Julie's hand and thigh.

He could feel a blush coming on, and Julie giggled at that.

_He's just way too cute._

"Tell me about the cabin."

"The cabin? Oh, right – the cabin…"

She loved getting him flustered. It made her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

"Well, it's a cabin," Adam explained. "And it's made of wood. And it's by a lake."

"Fascinating," Julie giggled. "Tell me more."

"Well, it's got one of those singing fishes in the living room…"

"Of course."

"…and there's a deck in the backyard. Then the lake. Oh, and there's a dock on the lake."

"Your powers of setting could give my mom a run for her money," Julie chortled. "Oh, that reminds me – I wanna leave a copy of her book at the cabin; y'know, to leave my mark. Think your parents will notice?"

"Doubt it," Adam shrugged. "I'm pretty sure my dad hasn't read an actual book since college. Just legal briefs. And Mother, heh, Mother doesn't really _do_ lake cabins. Too rustic for her."

"So we won't be disturbed."

"That, we will not be. Dad's in New York, and Mother wouldn't go to the cabin even if you paid her."

"Good," Julie squeezed his hand.

"And of course, no Ducks, either," Adam pointed out.

With the arrival of junior year, the Ducks had taken to the road – literally. Eden Hall allowed juniors and seniors to park on campus, and the ability to get out and explore the world ensured that their time spent on school grounds would be greatly reduced – an irony, given the fact that the Ducks were set to become the big men (and women) on campus. The last of the remaining Varsity bullies had graduated that June, and that left the Ducks at the top of the social heap.

"Oh, there's the lake," Adam observed. "It won't be long now."

* * *

Averman heard a knock at his door, and got up from his desk.

"Ah, Linda," he greeted his visitor. "How goes it?"

"Fine, Les," Linda Tompkins nodded shortly. "Is Charlie in there?"

"I sure am."

The Varsity captain had been laying recumbent on his dorm bed, watching TV, and got up to greet his girlfriend with a peck on the cheek.

"I can leave if you guys want the place to yourselves," Averman offered.

"Oh, that's quite alright, Les," Linda replied. "This is a business visit, not a romantic one."

"Ah," Charlie acknowledged. "Well, have a seat, then."

Linda did a quick scan of her tidy surroundings before taking a seat at Charlie's desk. First Guy Germaine, then Adam Banks, and now Les Averman, Charlie had gone through three roommates in as many years. No doubt it behooved him as captain to spread his wings and develop close relationships with as many of his fellow Ducks as possible; but Linda could not deny that Charlie was something of an acquired taste.

 _Still, this looks like a good roommate match,_ she thought. _At least Les is neat._

"So, what's up?" Charlie asked.

"This," Linda reached into her backpack and retrieved a stack of documents held together by a paperclip. "My source at the _Gazette_ leaked me a copy of their next edition. It's very bad."

"Oh?"

Charlie took the documents and examined them with some concern. Linda was running for Student Council President and could ill-afford bad publicity. Given that she belonged to no clique and lacked the seniority advantage of her opponents, any negative stories in the _Gazette_ about Linda or her friends on the Ducks – regardless of their veracity – risked torpedoing her candidacy.

Charlie did not have to look far to discover the offending article.

 _ **CONSPIRACY IN THE MAKING?**_ The headline ominously asked.

 **Adam Banks Puts Pal in Position to Help Push Charlie Conway Out,** read the subheading.

The article went on to explain how Adam Banks had gotten Fulton Reed to be named an alternate captain for the Varsity team. It went on to claim that Adam had used this appointment to position himself for a takeover of the team. The article then gave a brief history of Charlie's trials and tribulations at Eden Hall, the implication being that he was a dead man walking.

Furious, he crumbled the papers into a ball.

"That little punk, Josh. Well, he just lost his access to the Varsity team. That's for _damn_ sure. Averman, I trust that the little pipsqueak won't have any dealings with JV, either?"

"No way, man," Averman nodded. "No sense in doing interviews for him if he's only gonna write shit about us."

"In the meantime," Linda spoke up, "We're gonna have to do something about Adam."

Charlie looked at her incredulously.

"Linda, this article is nothing but lies and innuendo. Adam's not about to launch some kinda coup against me."

"Probably not," Linda agreed. "But we need to get him on message. He needs to know about this bomb before it goes off. Controlled detonation, that's the name of the game."

"Right," Charlie nodded. "I better give him a call."

* * *

After unpacking and transferring the groceries from the cooler to the refrigerator, Julie and Adam made their way to the cabin's lakeside backyard. Though the trees that ringed the lake were mostly green, a bit of autumnal amber was creeping into the scenery, and the burning bushes around the cabin were beginning to show hints of scarlet.

"Wow, what a great spot!" Julie enthused.

"Yeah," Adam nodded. "I like it even better in the winter. You can skate for miles across this lake. Much quieter and more open than the arena."

Julie shuddered at that.

"I could never skate over a lake. I'd be _way_ too scared about the ice cracking, and then going under."

Adam shrugged.

"You can't live life without taking risks."

Julie smiled at her boyfriend's casual bravado.

"Say, could you do my back?" She asked, sliding out of her T-shirt and revealing a skimpy white bikini top that looked a size too small.

Adam squeezed the tube of sun tan lotion that he had been holding, causing a stream of white goop to go flying in ecstasy.

"Huh-huh, sure."

 _Heh, Mr. Tough Guy, indeed_.

After sliding out of her denim cutoffs, Julie placed a beach towel across the grass and went prone before undoing her bikini strings – leaving a bare, lightly bronzed back for Adam's care and attention.

 _Right, here we go,_ he thought, rubbing a dollop of lotion into his hands before crouching down and getting to work.

Julie's lips pressed into a smile as she felt the familiar combination of strength and gentleness that was Adam Banks. It went without saying that she expected the lotion to be massaged into her skin, and he readily obliged, allowing her to direct him to her points of tension, while he did his best to provide relief.

"Mmmm, Adam."

"That better?"

"God, yes!"

His grin betrayed a hint of brashness as he hunched closer to her. He continued to caress her shoulders as he brought his face down to the side of hers. Adam had hardly even gotten into position when Julie seized him by the back of his head and stole a hungry kiss.

For a split second, he feared she would devour him, but as he returned her intensity, she quivered and submitted – allowing him to flip her onto her back as his thick, greedy lips worked their way down her neck and toward her chest.

She had forgotten all about her undone straps, until he brushed away her top and began to nuzzle. That was when she pushed him away.

His intense sapphire eyes betrayed a flick of anger before giving way to contrition.

"Sorry, Julie," he said softly.

Rather than accept his apology, Julie grasped the bottom of Adam's T-shirt and lifted it over his head – exposing his taut chest and hockey-ripped abs.

"You're forgiven," she offered coquettishly.

And with that, she pinned him to the towel and got to work on his own chest. He appeared to have gotten even taller and stronger over the summer, and she intended to savor him. The pair of teenage lovers forgot themselves completely – not that they needed to worry about prying eyes. The cabin was surrounded by dense foliage, and the few boats on the water that day were miles away.

Once the pair was spent, they cooled off in the glistening sapphire waters of Lake Belle Taine before heading indoors. The interior of the Banks Family's cabin was spacious, but somewhat spartan – well short of their richly-furnished mansion in Edina.

 _No wonder Charlotte doesn't 'do' lake cabins,_ Julie thought of Adam's queenly mother.

But the cabin was plenty comfortable for the girl from Bangor, and best of all, it had a surprisingly well-appointed bookcase.

 _Perfect,_ Julie tucked her mother's tome into the center shelf, the name GAFFNEY plain for all to see.

"Adam, what are you gonna cook for me?" She called from the living room.

" _We_ are gonna make a pizza. Together," he answered from the kitchen.

"That doesn't sound so complicated," Julie replied, moving to join him.

"It isn't, but I'm gonna use the grill to cook it."

Julie cocked an eyebrow.

"Now this I gotta see."

Far from heating a frozen pizza in the oven, Adam was going to make one from scratch. He had already prepared and frozen the dough before heading north. Now it was just a matter of browning the dough, then adding the sauce, cheese, and toppings.

"Watch, and learn."

Julie watched as Adam dumped a pile of charcoal into a kettle grill, doused it with lighter fluid, and lit a match.

"Fee-fi-fo-fum," he intoned, pouring even more lighter fluid onto the coals and creating a massive, terrifying flame.

"Adam!" Julie scolded him.

"Heh, we've gotta work on your trust issues," he chortled.

Eventually, the flame settled down, and Adam got to work. It didn't take long to turn the cold, white dough into warm, brown goodness; and once the dough was cooked, he led Julie back into the kitchen.

"Phase Two: Toppings," he announced.

Their pizza took its shape as the young couple applied sauce, cheese, and an assortment of toppings before Adam handed Julie the massive pizza paddle.

"Care to do the honors?"

Julie nodded and took the paddle while Adam got the door. She slid the pizza onto the grate and left it to cook. When it was done, Julie scooped it onto the paddle and carried it back inside while Adam retrieved a bottle of merlot that he had surreptitiously smuggled out of his parents' wine cellar – opening it with the cork screw on his trusty, ever-present Swiss Army knife.

The young couple was enjoying a candlelit dinner when Adam heard his cellphone go off in the bedroom.

_Go. Away._

It eventually went through its complete cycle, only to start ringing again.

"Shouldn't you get that?" Julie asked.

"Right," Adam grunted as he stood up.

He lumbered across the cedar planks of the cabin, somewhat buzzed from the wine, and approached his spiffy new MicroTac 8200 with every intention of chucking it into the lake. But he restrained himself long enough to answer it.

"Uh, hello?"

"Ah, Banksie!" Came Charlie's voice on the other end.

Adam grunted again.

"We have a problem, Adam."

"Yeah, no shit, Conway!"

"I've been trying to get ahold of you all day."

"Yeah, well you shoulda tried the lake."

"You're at the lake?" Charlie asked. "Are you gonna be there all weekend? I could drive up there…"

"Charlie, if you drive up here, _I swear to God_ it'll be the last thing that you _ever_ do. Now, what. Do. You. Want?"

"Linda got hold of the next issue of the _Gazette,_ " Charlie announced. "It's leading with a story about you plotting with Fulton to push me out as captain…"

Adam let out a loud sigh. Although the wine made him better equipped to deal with Charlie's dumb drama, he simply was not in the mood.

"Good night, Charlie."

He took care to turn the power off on his phone before tossing it back onto the dresser.

"Charlie being dramatic?" Julie asked as Adam returned to the kitchen.

"And I thought I had a reprieve this year. I figured that Averman would be the one stuck holding Conway's hand."

Julie stood up and closed the distance, draping her arms around Adam's neck.

"Forget about all that," she admonished with a kiss. "It's time for bed, anyway."

Back at Eden Hall, Charlie slammed the telephone receiver into its cradle on his desk.

"I can't believe Banks actually hung up on me."

Averman looked over to see a smoldering Charlie Conway.

"Really?" He asked. "Charlie, Adam is spending a weekend at the lake. With Julie. I never thought _I'd_ be the one to have to explain the birds-and-the-bees to you, but…"

"Averman, this is serious!"

"Sorry."

"Do you think I should drive up there?"

Averman got to his feet and walked over to his roommate, then gently placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Charlie, there's much about this world that I don't understand, but one thing that I _do_ understand? If you go and see Adam at the lake this weekend, Adam will go and see to it that you're laying at the bottom of it…with an anchor tied around your waist."

" _Damn,_ Averman."

"Heh, I only say that because I love you," Averman explained with a playful pat. "Now relax, enjoy your weekend, and don't worry about Monday. Nobody reads that disgusting rag, anyway."

Charlie let out a sigh.

"Whatever you say, man."


	2. Manic Monday

_Eden Hall Gazette, September 14, 1998_

**CONSPIRACY IN THE MAKING?**

**Adam Banks Puts Pal in Position to Help Push Charlie Conway Out**

By: Josh Woodward, Sports Reporter

Hockey season is still a month away, but already there is no shortage of drama for the boys (and girls) in purple-and-teal. Charlie Conway is the new captain of the revamped Varsity squad, but he may not be all that secure on his throne. With Duck MVP Adam Banks in position as an alternate, a pretender to the throne could easily replace the mercurial king if he proves unreliable.

To make matters worse for the longtime captain of the Ducks, Conway was forced to agree to Banks' proposal to make Fulton Reed the second alternate.

The Varsity hockey team is coming off its worst season in over twenty years, and if all the new blood can't turn this team around, things could get very ugly, very quickly.

Fans of Eden Hall hockey will remember Conway's highly visible spat with then-JV Coach Orion, which resulted in the longtime Duck leaving his team. Conway eventually returned, and helped lead his JV squad to a stunning upset victory over Varsity; but the good times didn't last. Hampered by mediocre play and team disaffection with his leadership, Conway was demoted to the second line as a sophomore, and was widely seen as captain-in-name-only to a JV squad that went on to win the State Finals.

But fans of the program can take heart in the fact that they have a leader who will be ready to answer the call, should the need arise.

The entire story of Adam Banks' career in youth hockey has been a story of overcoming adversity while coolly meeting near-impossible expectations. Not only does Banks have the talent, the hockey IQ, and the strength of personality to lead, but he enjoys strong relationships throughout the Duck roster. In addition to having his ally Reed as a fellow alternate, Banks is in a serious relationship with goaltender Julie 'the Cat' Gaffney, and has played with the core of the Duck roster since their Pee Wee days.

While it remains unclear if Banks is in fact planning a move, he is superbly positioned to take the helm if Charlie Conway finds the waters of Varsity's rebuilding process too treacherous to navigate.

Conway is currently seeing Linda Tompkins, a candidate for Student Council President.

*

"It's unbelievable, the shit they print," Charlie fumed, crumpling into a ball one of the innumerable copies of the _Gazette_ that was strewn about the dining hall. "I mean, isn't there like a faculty advisor? You know, somebody to say 'this is trash, you can't print it'?"

"Yeah, that senile old fossil Dr. Wittner," said Linda. "He's the paper's advisor. And I'm pretty sure he hasn't known what year it is since pens stopped having feathers. So yes, they really _can_ print trash."

"And why that little tag at the end about you running for SC President?" Charlie asked. "Why would hockey fans find that even remotely interesting?"

Linda's eyes narrowed.

"I mean, _everybody_ should take a healthy interest in student government," Charlie clarified. "But what's that stuff doing in the sports section?"

"It's the editor, Stacy," Linda said. "She knows that I want to change things, and she can't allow that, so she puts a hit piece out on my boyfriend in the hopes that it'll damage me too."

"That bitch."

"Whoa, easy there, Conway," Adam said, setting his tray down opposite of Charlie. "What seems to be the problem, here?"

"And you!" Charlie snapped. "I had a serious problem over the weekend, and you hung up on me! Are you _trying_ to make me lose my shit or something?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Charlie grabbed a fresh copy of the _Gazette_ and slid it across the table.

"Ring any bells?" He asked.

Adam had, in fact, forgotten about Charlie's little meltdown over the article that the _Gazette_ was preparing to print. As he read the outrageous headline and subheading, Adam felt his stomach turn.

"You don't really believe this, do you?"

"I _believe_ I am the captain, and I _believe_ I made you an alternate captain because the team needs your leadership. So next time I call with a problem facing the team, try and do a little better than just saying goodnight and hanging up on me."

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I will."

"Hey, guys!" Came Julie's perky voice.

As the goalie set her tray down next to Adam, Charlie took in the sight of the hockey power couple that was sitting opposite himself. Even if Josh's article had been nothing but nasty rumor-peddling, it contained a few nuggets of truth. Among them was the strength of Adam and Julie's relationship. It had been a very long time coming, but once Julie and Adam officially became an item, there could be no denying their closeness.

Charlie had no doubt that if Adam _did_ end up making a play against him, Adam would enjoy the full support of Julie as he knifed Charlie in the back.

"Hey, Catwoman," Adam grinned.

Julie rolled her eyes, but giggled anyway.

"I guess I'll take that over 'Cat lady'," she shrugged. "Hey Charlie, hey Linda. What's up?"

"Oh, you know," Charlie shrugged. "The usual. Boring teachers, corrupt prefects, brain-dead football players, and a generous helping of character assassination. That's all for now. But it's early."

"Yeah, I heard about that article," Julie said softly. "You know we've all got your back, Charlie. But still, it's gotta suck being gossiped about."

"You were in that article too," Charlie pointed out.

Julie shrugged. "Only to be mentioned as Adam's girlfriend. So it wasn't _all_ BS."

Before Charlie could respond, Linda spoke up.

"Well, I gotta go do a bit of campaigning," she announced. "So please excuse me."

Charlie leaned in to kiss her cheek, but Linda was already up and out of her seat. As she began working the dining hall, he couldn't shake a sudden feeling of loneliness. He wondered how his girlfriend would address the hit piece in the _Gazette_ to other students, and for a moment, he considered joining her.

 _Nah, that wouldn't be a good look for her,_ he decided.

He then began to wonder if she needed him at all, and he even began to wonder if his team needed him while Perfect Adam Banks stood by, ready to be captain at a moment's notice.

* * *

"So this is where I leave you," Guy Germaine told Connie Moreau outside of Dr. Zinsemeyer's chemistry classroom.

"Yep," Connie nodded. "Dr. Z's. Let's just hope she doesn't live up to her name."

"Hey now, you never know. Maybe she does her lectures in black sunglasses between playing the sax. Don't be so judgmental!"

"I'll try to keep an open mind, then," Connie got on her tiptoes and gave her boyfriend a parting peck. "See you at practice!"

"Yep, see ya then!"

As Connie disappeared inside Dr. Z's classroom, Guy turned on his heel and began the journey to his pre-calc class. The blond forward was eager not to be late, so he moved at a brisk clip, past all the friendly faces who wanted him to stop and chat. He didn't know any of these people, and as recently as the previous school year, none of those people seemed to know that he existed.

All throughout the day, Guy had noticed a certain buzz around him that was hard to describe. He wasn't all that sure if he liked it, but it was impossible for him not to notice it.

"Yo, roommate!" Luis Mendoza called out. "Wait up, man!"

Guy slowed down to allow his new roommate catch up to him.

"What's up, Luis?"

"It's brutal, man. Brutal," Luis answered with a fist bump.

"What's brutal?"

"The temptation, man, the temptation. Haven't you noticed?"

Guy chuckled. "I noticed that Mindy graduated last June. Is that why you find your new chastity belt such a burden?"

"Partly," Luis nodded. "But the girls seem more aggressive this year, don't they?"

"What, like whips and chains? That sorta thing?"

"Hey, I did _not_ go there! Damn, that's some imagination you got! Now I'm scared about what I'm gonna be walking in on this year!"

"Heh, sorry," Guy chortled.

"No worries," Luis replied. "You're cool. I've roomed with a male nun before, so being with a deviant could make things more interesting."

"Then I'll try not to disappoint."

The pair of Varsity forwards arrived before the start of Dr. Quinn's class, and Guy surveyed the classroom for an open pair of seats, only to find two singles – one next to a few football players, and one next to some of the Beautiful People's most popular representatives.

Guy betrayed a look of shock as he observed Luis make a bee-line toward the football players, rather than the girls, and take a seat.

_I guess he wasn't kidding about the temptation thing._

With a shrug of the shoulders, Guy made his way over to the cluster of campus princesses and took his seat. At once, the conversation that the girls had been having ceased.

_This is the part when they tell me to get lost._

"Hey, Guy," Amanda Barry beamed. "What's up?"

_Oh-kaaay…that was oddly civil._

"Not much," Guy shrugged.

"That's cool," Amanda shrugged back.

_Cool?! When did 'not much' become cool?_

"So you looking forward to taking Varsity back to States?" Samantha Paulson asked Guy.

"You know it," he grinned.

But before Amanda, Samantha, or their friend Sarah Davis could continue the conversation, a willowy man with enormous glasses and a tweed jacket strolled into the classroom at the sound of the bell.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," Dr. Quinn spoke up. "Let's begin."

Though math had never been his strongest subject to begin with, Guy found Dr. Quinn uniquely difficult to follow. Not only did Quinn teach a hard subject, but he spoke like an auctioneer on meth. To make matters worse, Guy found himself playing the role of mailman for the Beautiful People, and he had to keep pausing to pass along notes. One of those notes had to be returned to him.

"This one's _for you,"_ Amanda explained.

He slid the note into his pocket with a nod, but resolved not to read it.

As the bell rang and the lecture ended, Guy felt like the experience had made him know even less about math than he knew when he had entered the classroom.

"Hey, Guy!" Connie beamed as she approached him in the hallway. "How was class?"

He hunched forward, grabbed the petite brunette by the waist, and kissed her flat on the lips.

"That bad, huh?" Connie giggled as they parted. "Well, if it made you miss me _that_ much, I guess I can't complain."

Guy managed to relax, confident that the flirty girls in his math class had observed the kiss and would know to back off.

"How was Dr. Z?" He asked.

"Well, if she really _is_ a jazz musician, then it's a hidden talent," Connie chortled.

"Ah, too bad," Guy smiled. "But at least you gave her a chance."

"It's only September and she's already talking about extra credit opportunities. So her exams must be _insanely_ hard. But I guess she wants us to pass, or she wouldn't be offering extra credit, so there's that."

Guy nodded. "I didn't hear Dr. Quinn offer any extra credit." _But then, I didn't really hear_ anything _from him._

"I'm sure you're smart enough not to need it," Connie offered.

"Thanks."

"You ok, Guy?"

"Yeah, fine," he answered. "Just thinking about practice. I'm wondering how all the new faces are gonna work."

Connie shrugged. "They can't be any worse than last year's Varsity crew…no offense!"

"Nah, none taken. We sucked. The only thing good about our suckeyness was that it was kind of artful, in a weird way."

Connie laughed out loud. "I wish _I_ had your ability to find the silver lining in everything."

"Anyway, we better move. We don't wanna be late for practice."

Connie nodded and got into step with her boyfriend's long stride. As they made the mostly-quiet journey to the arena, she had a vague sense that something was bothering him, but couldn't draw it out of him. Given their long and complicated history, however, Connie decided that she was being oversensitive, and dismissed her own concerns.

* * *

Gordon Bombay felt a tinge of sadness as he walked past the Varsity team that had lined up after their practice and were about to head into their locker room. Though there were a few new faces, most of these kids had played for him at one point. Had he not gone to the West Coast for his short-lived gig with USA Junior Athletics, he would have been at Eden Hall for the Ducks' freshman and sophomore years; and he never would have separated from the group of kids that had gotten him to sober up and fly right.

 _You had to go to California, though,_ he kept telling himself. _You know why. So there's no point in beating yourself up over it. It didn't work out, but so what?_

He managed to return the smiles of his old players as they shuffled past him.

The sound of the heavy locker room door closing behind Varsity snapped Gordon back into the present. It was only then when he realized how much of a zombie he had been. He hoped his players hadn't noticed.

Without wasting another precious second, he blew his whistle and ordered his team to do laps. The new JV squad consisted entirely of Ted Orion recruits, with one exception.

Les Averman, never much of an athlete, made a point of going hard down the ice for warm-ups. As the bespectacled Duck raced around the ice, Gordon realized that Averman was a leader after all. He had given Averman the JV captaincy out of respect to his seniority, and out of sympathy over the fact that Les was not being allowed to move on to the next level with his friends. But as all the freshmen moved to keep Averman's brisk pace, Gordon felt that Averman truly deserved the 'C' that he would be wearing on his chest.

"Alright, bring it in!" Gordon barked after several minutes.

At once, his players ceased their laps and moved to join him at center ice.

"Take a knee..." Gordon did a quick scan of his players. _No girls._ "…gentlemen."

The boys duly took a knee and looked up at their new coach. Gordon guessed that none of the smooth, youthful faces before him had ever felt the glide – or pull – of a razor, but the former Hawk knew that stubble was not a prerequisite for toughness and aggression.

"Take a look up at the rafters, men."

The ceiling of Eden Hall Arena was dominated by bright red Warrior banners – bold symbols of State Championship victories past. The white-and-teal banner belonging to the JV Ducks of the previous year stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of crimson.

"As you can see, at Eden Hall, we're in the business of winning," Gordon declared. "Our colors may have changed, but our traditions have not. Each and every one of you wants greatness, or you wouldn't be here. Well, greatness doesn't come easy.

"We've got one month before the season starts, and throughout that month, you will hate me. And you will love each other. My job is to teach, push, press, motivate, and otherwise beat the snot outta ya until you've _earned_ your colors."

 _Oh, boy. Captain Blood is back,_ Averman thought.

"Until that day," Gordon continued. "The first and last thing out of your mouths will be 'Sir.' Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Some of the boys chorused.

"What was that?!"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

"Huh?"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

Gordon blew his whistle. "SUICIDES! RIGHT NOW!"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

As JV practiced, Varsity, now dressed in street clothes, sat huddled around their locker room as they did homework. With last year's upperclassmen either graduated or not making the final roster cuts, the core of the team was all Duck. But several new faces rounded out the roster.

Though seated, Mato Martin, a new defenseman, towered over Kenny Wu. Mato, a full-blooded Sioux, was a powerfully-built junior who had transferred to Eden Hall from a school in North Dakota. During practice, he had shown himself to be the most nimble and offensive-minded of the defensemen, and Adam practically drooled at the potential of such a dynamic player.

Mato's dark hair and dark eyes briefly reminded Adam of Paul Larson – an old Hawk friend turned bitter enemy. Adam shuddered at the thought, but didn't abandon it right away.

_I wonder where he is now._

None of the Ducks had heard from Larson in the eight months since his expulsion. Adam had heard rumors that his former friend had gone to the far north of the state to live with relatives near Duluth. Another rumor had him serving a sentence in juvie. The wildest rumor had him lying about his age and joining the Green Berets as an elite sniper, sending Colombian drug mules and guerillas to their graves by the score.

_Even a sociopath can have his uses._

Over by the far wall, another defenseman, Kyle Gibson, had already planted himself between the Bash Brothers. A Mankato native and a sophomore walk-on at Eden Hall, Orion had singled him out for his left-handed shot. Apart from that, Adam couldn't really figure out what Kyle brought to the table. Or why he wasn't on JV. But Adam figured that the sophomore would be third line anyway.

With his blond hair, blue eyes, and medium build, it was unclear what Kyle's athletic ability was just by looking at him. Just that he was not unusually strong or fast. But not unusually weak or slow, either.

Seated by Russ Tyler, Darren Springs was a junior transfer from Minneapolis public schools, and was the most 'local' of all the newbies. A short, wiry black kid, Darren was a blazingly fast forward. Luis was already starting to feel that the new arrival was stealing his spot, but had managed to put on a friendly face around him.

But if the friendliness of Luis was strained, the friendliness of Russ toward Darren was very easy. The two of them hardly got any homework done, and their animated conversation was frequently interrupted by loud laughs. As Charlie observed this, he realized for the first time just how isolated Russ had felt on their previous teams.

Captain Duck made a mental note to reach out to Russ more often.

Over by Dwayne Robertson, Chris Phillips of La Crosse, Wisconsin kept his head down and did his pre-calc. A natural introvert, this junior transfer was even quieter than usual, as his 'Canadian-sounding' accent had already made him the butt of a few jokes. Dwayne, the genial Texan, gravitated toward this 'exotic fella,' much as he had gravitated toward Russ.

Though he'd never beat Luis or Darren in a sprint across the ice, Chris had a quickness that was belied by his tall frame. His height and muscle were also a welcome change of pace for Duck forwards, Adam felt, as Duck forwards had tended to be short and slight.

Finally, the newish Ryan O'Neill had returned. The Surge-guzzling Kentuckian with flaming red hair had only been with the Ducks for one year, so he was still somewhat of a new face. But he had proven to be an efficient wingman, and the manic energy that he brought to the ice had made it all but impossible for opposing teams to score power play goals on the Ducks.

Adam looked up from his chemistry homework and surveyed the players that surrounded him. Now a junior at Eden Hall, this was the first time on campus that Adam Banks had ever started the year feeling good about his team and the upcoming season.

* * *

After getting out of his skates and ushering the JV team into their locker room, Gordon settled into the cramped office that he shared with Varsity Coach Ted Orion.

The office, with its mysterious foot-like smell, was more remarkable for what it _didn't_ contain than what it actually did. It still amazed Gordon that Ted never kept any of his NHL memorabilia in there. How easy would it be for a high school hockey coach to throw his weight around moody teenagers by reminding them that he had played professionally?

Gordon didn't know why Ted chose to make their office an NHL-free zone, but he didn't feel like it was the sort of thing that he could ask about. He sat down on his rock-hard folding chair and made a mental note to bring in his office chair from home before glancing at the wall clock.

The hockey season hadn't even begun, so he couldn't kill the next hour by reviewing game tape and writing scout notes.

When Ted called him last spring and tossed him the lifesaver that was the JV coaching job, Gordon had gratefully accepted, figuring that he would be too busy to slip back into destructive habits. But as the red second hand made its torturously slow lap around the numbers, Gordon was desperate for something, _anything_ to occupy his mind.

His eyes were drawn to the phone.

_Don't._

But they stubbornly refused to shift.

_She's moved on. It wouldn't be right._

Again, no cooperation from his eyes.

He let out a loud sigh and grabbed the receiver, only to replace it the next second. Then, he brooded for a full minute before grabbing the receiver and punching in one of only a handful of phone numbers that he knew by heart. He took a deep breath as the phone rang.

" _Mickey's Diner."_

"Uh, hi. Is Casey working today?"

" _Nah, she's off today."_

"Oh, ok. Thanks."

After replacing the receiver, Gordon instinctively reached into the bottom right drawer of his desk, but immediately slammed it shut. There was no flask of bourbon in there this time, but a cold sweat ran down his spine when he realized that one day there would be.


	3. The News

Fresh off her election as Student Council President, Ashley Weatherford hosted a victory party at her family's home in Edina. The grand Victorian mansion was just three doors down from the Banks residence, and Adam had had quite the crush on his comely brunette neighbor – until Julie Gaffney made him forget about everything else.

Or _just about_ everything else.

After a week of practicing with the new Varsity team, the hockey-obsessed Adam Banks could not remember the last time he was so excited about an upcoming season. This off-campus party that he was about to attend almost seemed like an unwelcome distraction. The newbies had fit in seamlessly, and the team was already starting to gel. Then, the hockey gods, ever capricious, decided to halt all hockey activity for two full days.

"Relax," Julie said from the passenger seat of Adam's Range Rover. "You earned a couple days off."

"Huh?"

"I know you, Adam William Banks," Julie grinned. "You're making that 'Why are we not at the arena' frown of yours. There's nothing wrong with getting away from it for a weekend. Once the season starts back up, you'll be _begging_ for a day off."

"I guess," Adam shrugged. "Hopefully Charlie's doing alright. Linda's probably miserable because she lost. I just hope she doesn't blame Charlie for it."

"Yeah, hopefully he'll be at Ashley's. Apparently _all_ the Ducks were invited. Oh, look! There's your house!"

"Did you want to stop by and say 'hello' to the folks?"

Upon seeing Julie's look of horror, Adam cracked a smile.

"You know, for a sweet, handsome, overachieving dork, you can be pretty mean."

"Hey!"

"I _said,_ you were sweet, handsome, and overachieving. Didn't I?"

Adam looked over to see Julie smile, and realized that she had won yet another of their little battles. Not that they were ever real fights. Just banter. Despite playing hockey since the age of six, and being surrounded by smart alecs and jokers for most of that time, Adam never really had anyone to banter with. But with Julie, Adam had a real friend and a true equal for the first time in his life.

"Well, here we are!" He announced, parking the car in the street.

"That close to your house, huh? Did you know Ashley growing up?"

"Not really," he said, unfastening his seatbelt. "She was really sick when we were younger. Spent most of her childhood in one of those germ-proof bubbles, like in _Seinfeld."_

"Oh my God."

"Yeah, I was always afraid to breathe in her presence."

"That sounds horrific."

"Yeah," Adam nodded, stepping into the street. "I mean, she was plenty nice and everything. But such a fragile vessel was never gonna work for me. What I needed was a strong, hardy girl from the woods of central Maine."

"Well, naturally," Julie said, joining Adam and clasping his hand.

"Yep, no bubble girls for Adam Banks. Give me a girl who can play hockey, gut a moose, and swing an ax…but hopefully not _at me._ "

"As long as you don't give me a reason to."

The pair walked up to the front porch and rang the doorbell. Several seconds later, a tall, elegant 17-year old with long, chestnut-colored hair and blue eyes answered the door.

"Adam!" Ashley Weatherford exclaimed, sweeping the startled boy into an embrace. "It's so nice to see you again!"

After releasing Adam from the hug, Ashley turned and studied the girl that her neighbor was with.

"And you must be Julie Gaffney," Ashley reasoned, extending a hand. "Ashley Weatherford, nice to meet you."

Julie shook the outstretched hand with a nod.

"Nice to meet you too, Ashley," Julie offered. "And congratulations… _Madam President."_

"Thank you," Ashley beamed. "Well, come on in – enjoy yourselves!"

The new Student Council President – and card-carrying member of the Beautiful People – ushered Julie and Adam into the foyer and closed the door behind them. The party already looked to be in full swing, with members of Eden Hall's most prestigious cliques intermingling to the sounds of Coolio. If _Gangsters Paradise_ seemed out of place in safe, affluent, and lily white Edina, the discrepancy did not appear to bother any of the party guests.

"Well, it looks like Bubble Girl has made a nice recovery," Julie chuckled.

"Huh? Oh, yeah! The miracles of modern medicine, I guess!"

Julie smiled. As serious and as hardworking as Adam Banks was, there was a side to his personality that was just gloriously goofy. Julie loved it.

"I'll just go and see if I can find us some bottled refreshment," Adam volunteered.

After his disastrous experience at Zach Henderson's Halloween party the previous year, Adam avoided punch or any other type of drink that could potentially be tampered with. As he disappeared in pursuit of bottled – or canned – drinks, Julie scoped her surroundings. Though she liked receiving party invitations, Julie was more comfortable sticking with people she already knew and liked, and she had a mild look of apprehension as she failed to spot any familiar faces.

"Julie Gaffney!"

The goalie turned to follow the sound of her name, and discovered possibly the blandest-looking girl she had ever met.

"I don't believe we've met," the bland-but-pungent stranger said. "I'm Stacy Andersen, Editor-in-Chief of the _Gazette._ And I've been most eager to meet you."

The overwhelming scent of Stacy's perfume caused Julie's head to spin; but miraculously, the goalie managed to remain on her feet.

"Obviously the paper had to touch base with the hockey captains first," Stacy continued. "But I've been _dying_ to learn more about you, and your experiences as a woman in a man's world."

"Will this be going in Monday's edition?"

Stacy smiled. While other people found her perfume impossible not to notice, Stacy Andersen found the smell of fear impossible not to notice. She knew for a fact that the ballsy female goalie in her midst was nervous.

"Oh, no," Stacy offered with a laugh. "We're a newspaper, not miracle workers. We already have our story for next week, and there's no time for editing or replacing it. This will just be a little chat between two girls trying to make it at an archaic old boarding school dominated by patriarchs."

"Come again?"

"Oh, come now, Julie. You must've noticed! The boys run everything at Eden Hall, especially in the athletic world. Oh, sure. We managed to get the Student Council presidency, but that's only because it's a difficult and thankless job. So the boys don't mind giving that one to us."

"Heh, yeah," Julie agreed. "Now that you mention it, the only people who ran for the office were three girls."

"Mmm-hmm," Stacy nodded. "Men love equality when it involves the tough stuff. But as far as the nice stuff goes? Forget about it, sister."

"Speaking of the three girls, what about Linda and Caitlin? Are they at the party?"

"Caitlin most certainly is," Stacy answered. "It was very gracious of Ashley to invite her, especially given Caitlin's…less-than-enviable standing."

"And Linda?"

Stacy shrugged. "I know she received an invitation. But will she show? Your guess is as good as mine."

"I'm back!" Adam announced, thrusting a chilled bottle of Evian into Julie's hand.

"Ah, Mr. Banks," Stacy greeted him with a smile. "Varsity's leader waiting in the wings. And how are you today?"

"I'm sorry, do I _know_ you?" Adam asked.

"No need to apologize, we haven't met. I am Stacy Andersen. Editor-in-Chief of the _Gazette."_

Adam's eyes narrowed upon hearing the name of the loathsome gossip rag that was already creating drama out of thin air for the Ducks. While the newbies on Varsity were gelling, and the rest of the team was looking good, sensitive Charlie Conway was already getting upset. And the school newspaper was the source of Captain Duck's agitation.

"I see," Adam responded coldly.

"I know you have to be loyal to Charlie right now, Adam," Stacy began. "But you and I both know that he's going to lose it at some point. And when he does, fans of Eden Hall hockey will demand – and deserve – a strong leader. I expect you'll be ready to hear the call.

"I wouldn't have let Josh write that puff piece about you if the _Gazette_ wasn't prepared to support you."

"Puff piece?!" Adam struggled to contain himself. "You tore Charlie down for no good reason. Just to get people talking about your stupid paper."

Stacy shrugged. "I stand by everything in that column as factually accurate. And like I said, I expect you to be loyal to Charlie now. That's not a problem. _The problem_ will start when Charlie has another one of his little meltdowns, and you fail to step up and take the lead.

"But that shouldn't be for another few weeks. So until then, I'm more than happy to give you the benefit of the doubt."

Adam's blood boiled at Stacy's cool nonchalance. Here she was, doing everything in her power to undermine Charlie, only to demand that Adam 'step up and take the lead' when Charlie collapses under the weight of the bogus drama that Stacy herself had created.

"Or you could quit messing with Charlie and the Ducks, and this won't even be an issue," Adam said through gritted teeth.

"Like I said, Adam. I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. You deserve a chance to lead, especially after all that you've had to put up with – _from your own teammates!_ And I want to help you _get_ that chance that you've always deserved.

I understand that you have to be loyal to Charlie for the time being. So your criticism doesn't bother me. But please understand that I _am_ your friend."

Before Adam could respond, Stacy moved to end the conversation.

"Now if you'll excuse me, my readers expect a good story. So I need to go and find them one. Take care, Adam. Julie."

As their pungent companion took her leave, Adam looked at Julie.

"She's totally full of it."

"Full of it?" Julie asked. "More like _drowning_ in it."

Adam chuckled. "C'mon. Let's dance."

As Adam led his girlfriend over to an area where other kids were dancing, Les Averman literally bumped into Greg Goldberg.

"Oh…Greg. Hey."

"Averman," Goldberg nodded shortly.

And with that, Goldberg moved to rejoin a cheerleader that he had been chatting up. Averman sighed unhappily.

 _I guess it really is over,_ he realized of his old friendship with Greg Goldberg.

"Linda!" Ashley exclaimed at the front door. "I'm so happy you decided to come! Congratulations on a well-run campaign."

Over on the setee, Stacy observed Linda's entrance with Charlie.

_Well, at least she had the guts to show her face. I gotta give her credit for that._

Although Linda had managed to put on a brave face, Charlie Conway had the appearance of someone whose best friend had just died. And he managed to grow even more morose as Linda separated from him and worked the room. No one dared approach Captain Duck, indicating just how radioactive he had become in the days following the _Gazette's_ hit piece.

Stacy grinned smugly at that.

While Linda carried on with a broad smile plastered to her face – the politician impervious to defeat – Fulton Reed was getting acquainted with a perky blonde named Samantha Paulson.

"Really?" Fulton asked. "You like Pearl Jam… _you_?!"

"Sure I do!" Samantha insisted. "Not only is their music fly, but they're perfect for horrifying my parents."

Fulton laughed out loud. "Sorry. I sorta took you for more of a Backstreet Boys kinda girl. I guess I shouldn't judge by appearances. Next I guess you're gonna tell me that you're into ICP."

Samantha shrugged. "They're ok, I guess. I mean, they try a little too hard to be badass, but I guess they don't totally suck."

 _This is literally the PERFECT woman,_ Fulton thought.

"They're not like Guns 'N Roses," Samantha continued. "Axl and Co. don't have to _try_ to be badass. They just are."

"Knockin' On Heaven's Door is my all-time favorite song," Fulton agreed.

"Same!"

Fulton was about to reply when he noticed Samantha's gaze follow Guy Germaine.

"So Guy and Connie," Samantha began. "Are they still, like…a thing?"

"Like, yeah."

"Shut up," Samantha smacked Fulton for mocking her, but they each had a smile on their face.

"But yeah, they are," Fulton confirmed. "Why?"

"Oh, just a few friends of mine," Samantha shrugged. "They think Guy's cute."

"Connie's cute," Fulton said. "But don't let that fool you. If you get between her and something…or someone…she cares about, she can be vicious as fuck. She's called the 'Velvet Hammer' for a reason."

"Good thing I'm not into blond dudes, then," Samantha said with a flirty grin.

At that moment, a roar went up among the partygoers.

Dean Portman had arrived with the beer. His friends had no idea how he always managed to procure hooch, but the fast-talking boy from the South Side of Chicago was a natural hustler. And he had a knack for finding beer and gasoline stores that had lonely, frumpy women at the cash register. They never could deny him or his charm.

And neither could anyone at Ashley's party, as Dean Portman became a rock god at that very moment.

But if he was the John Lennon of the Mighty Ducks, the rest of the team were more-than serviceable as Beatles. With the possible exception of toxic Charlie, the Ducks had finally arrived after two long years on a brutal, unforgiving, and snobbish campus. They really _were_ the Big Ducks on Campus.

* * *

Over his own fevered protests, Gordon Bombay strolled into Mickey's Diner on Saturday for a late lunch. Or an early dinner. Drunk or sober, taking regular meals at regular times had never been a strength of his. He took a seat at the lightly-populated counter, and was greeted by a startled Casey Portalino (née Conway).

"I didn't know you were back in Minnesota," she said.

"Yep," Gordon nodded. "I returned home this past summer. I guess the thought of going through another winter without freezing temperatures and mountains of snow was just too much for me to bear."

"California was that bad, huh?"

Gordon shrugged. "Not really. But I've never really been able to stay in one place."

"I noticed," Casey said with a tinge of bitterness.

Gordon glanced at the wedding band and engagement ring on Casey's finger.

"Still with Who's-It's?"

"His name is Bruce."

"I remember that spring before the Goodwill Games. Charlie kept pestering Hans and Jan for a job. Anything to get away from…Bruce. That's cool that you're still together though."

"Look, are you here to eat, or to pass judgment on my life?" Casey demanded.

"Turkey club and a Coke, please," Gordon requested.

"Comin' right up."

And with that, Casey gratefully disappeared into the kitchen. She had no idea what Gordon Bombay was doing back in Minnesota, and she was stunned that Charlie never saw fit to bring it up at any point during the past several months. But whatever Gordon's motives and purpose were, Casey knew that he was not to be trusted.

"Here's your Coke."

She immediately turned on her heel to disappear again when he stopped her.

"Excuse me, miss? Could I have a straw, please?"

She reached into the front pocket of her apron before blindly tossing one in his direction.

"Here."

And with that, she disappeared back into the kitchen, grateful to be away from the disturbing and magnetic man who had captured her heart years earlier only to throw it away.

* * *

"Home sweet home," Julie declared, ushering Adam into her dorm.

"So Connie decided to crash at Guy's, eh?"

"She sure did," Julie grinned coquettishly. "Which means you've got me all to yourself this evening."

"How _will_ I manage?"

"Hopefully not quite as…efficiently…as last time."

At that, Adam's face became florid, prompting Julie to laugh. Few things made the Cat happier than a speechless boyfriend. And she knew that despite all of his innocent, boyish protests, Adam was better-equipped to handle her cattiness than just about any other guy at Eden Hall.

"Go on, make yourself comfortable," Julie nodded toward her bed. "I'll grab a tape. But first I need to check my messages."

"Do you want me to step outside?"

"No, don't be silly," Julie said, emphatically pointing to her bed.

As Adam got settled on Julie's twin, the goalie took a seat at her desk and dialed her voicemail. One new message. Julie played the message and heard uncomfortable breathing on the recording. She figured it was a prank caller who had chickened out, and was about to delete the message when she heard a familiar, but hoarse voice.

" _Julie, it's your mother. Please give me a call as soon as you get this message."_

_*End of messages*_

Julie felt a vague sense of unease. She was pretty good about calling home on a regular basis, but her parents almost never called her. Something must have been very wrong. And the fact that Julie's distant mother was the parent reaching out to her instead of her doting father made the goalie all the more sick with worry.

She wasted no time punching in her home number to Bangor, Maine.

After a few rings, an annoyingly familiar voice came on the line.

"Mark?" Julie asked. "It's Julie."

"Oh, Julie. Hey. Have you talked to Mom yet?"

"No, that's what I'm calling about," Julie answered. "What's going on?"

Mark sighed. "You better hear it from her. Just a minute."

Julie hated being kept in suspense – especially when something was obviously not right. As her brother moved to get their mom on the phone, Julie felt a painful knot in her stomach. She couldn't recall ever feeling so desperate to hear from her mother, to be assured that everything was alright – or at least not as bad as they might seem.

After what felt like eternity, Karen Gaffney came on the line.

"Julie?"

The Gaffney matriarch sounded even hoarser than she had on Julie's voicemail.

"Mom? Hey. What's going on? Is everything alright?"

"Julie…Julie, a little while back, I wasn't feeling right. So I went to the doctor. He told me it could be a couple of different things, and he wanted to take a biopsy, so he could narrow down what it was. The results came back earlier today. I have cancer – ovarian cancer."

The receiver fell from Julie's hand, and briefly dangled from the cord before Julie came back to her senses.

"Oh my God," she said softly.

"I just wanted you to know as soon as possible," Karen said. "And I want you to know that I _will_ fight it. And I've been referred to a wonderful team of specialists in Boston. And I _am_ hopeful that I'll beat this. But I also knew this was nothing that I could keep from you."

"Of course."

"Well, do you have any questions for me?"

Julie thought for a moment. "To be honest, Mom, I feel pretty numb right now."

"Your brothers felt the same way, don't worry, sweetie."

Julie felt the full force of a tidal wave of sadness, helplessness, and fear wash over her. She had never felt so strongly about her mother in her entire life. It made her reflect on how distant their relationship had been, which only saddened her more – as if she had thrown away years of closeness with her mom by refusing to be a better daughter.

"I'm so sorry, Mom."

She had been unable to keep the tears out of her voice, which was just above a whisper.

"Please, don't be," Karen said. "Like I said, I've got a whole team assembled to help me beat this thing."

"What can I do?" Julie asked.

"Do? _You?"_ Karen asked back. "Do exactly what your father and I expect of you: continue being an outstanding student and athlete. Believe me, knowing that you're happy and doing well will help me in more ways than you can imagine."

"Okay," Julie managed weakly.

"Your father is cutting his business trip short," Karen announced. "He should be in the air even as we speak. And Junior's coming back home too. Hopefully you'll talk to both of them tomorrow."

"I will."

"Good. I'm sorry to drop all of this on you, sweetie. I really am. But please try and get some sleep."

"I will, Mom."

"Well, goodnight, then. I love you."

"I love you too."

Adam leapt from the bed as Julie replaced the receiver and put her head down on her desk.

"Hey," he said, taking a knee and gently grasping her chin.

She turned to face him with glistening emerald eyes.

They were the saddest things that he had ever seen. He grasped her by the back of her head, and pulled her face into his chest, where she broke into sobs while he stroked her hair.


End file.
